As I write this, I'm still riding the high from this past weekend's nude volleyball tournament. A good mix of Type 1 and Type 2 fun. Sleeping in a tent, dodging the rain, dealing with crowded bathrooms, joining yet another misfit team - who this year didn't win a single game. These were not my favorite parts; and there were moments where I found myself wondering if I should have just stayed home. But by the closing ceremonies Sunday evening, I had been pulled into the magic of it all, and I didn't want it to end. I'll definitely be back next year, and maybe seek some other opportunities in the interim (pending financial and weather-related considerations, in addition to scheduling).
After all, it's not often that I get to practice naked on a real court, let alone in a team setting, with other naked people. People who genuinely seem to like me - some of whom I've known for well over a decade now, but only get to see in this context. And I always enjoy playing volleyball, even when we don't win. I was mostly just frustrated not to be able to play up to my full potential. I've been practicing a lot, for what little opportunities that I have, and my skills have improved greatly since I started playing some 15 years ago. I won a trophy all the way back in 2016, when I was still a relative novice; I want to win one in a higher skill bracket, to reflect my growth - before age starts catching up with me.
With sincere apologies to the gentleman who asked me to dance at the masquerade ball (I've inevitably disappointed many men over the years, but I can't help my programming), the highlight of the weekend was hitting the ball around with two of the younger, female referees in between games. It would have made for a striking image (I'm sorry, but I can't help thinking like a photographer) - the two of them dressed and me fully naked, although it didn't feel the least bit unusual in the moment.
If that's the reward (fleeting though it was) for putting in the work to improve my skills (and thereby build my confidence), then it was worth every minute of exertion I've endured - to be able to participate in a meaningful interaction with somebody attractive, and not just stand on the sidelines. It's enough to keep me motivated to continue improving. I hate to sound like a cliche, but these forces are very powerful by design, and even I am not immune to them. Honestly, I'm just relieved I can hold my own against actual, trained volleyball players. Like that one time I joined a team of college girls on the beaches of Lake Michigan...
How dull life seems to me now, when you avoid the risks that lead to adventure. I just wish I hadn't spent so many years letting my fears get in the way of that. There's a certain cruelty in having to trade the vitality and resilience of your youth for the experience that brings wisdom and confidence. Life is short enough already, for its peak to be such a narrow band of years when the two divergent forces meet in the middle. And by then, it's too late to start building a foundation for anything substantial.
I've had a taste of the social cachet that's conferred to jocks in our culture, and I'm hungry for more! (That's something I never I thought I'd hear myself say). Even as, sadly, we're winding down to the end of summer, and heading in to that long period of the year when I essentially enter hibernation. Soon I'll be sitting at my computer day in and day out, managing my vast (and growing) photo library, while waiting for the weather to turn warm again. It's essential work, and the safety of not poking my head out into the world constantly is comforting. But I have increasingly begun to feel like I thrive best when I spend a lot of time outside being active. Yet every time I get into that zone, and face the realization that it can't be sustained indefinitely, I worry about the cost of losing momentum.
All good things may come to an end, but I'm determined that there be more good things to come, waiting just beyond the next horizon. But I can't just sit around waiting for them to happen, or they never will. I must remain vigilant. For I am the architect of my own fortune. Nobody else is going to do it for me.
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
Friday, September 4, 2026
Mountainuding Adventures
I just went on an impromptu camping trip to take advantage of this late summer heat wave, and to make up for the earlier camping trip that was ruined by extreme flooding - but this time by myself, so I could focus on the activity I love more than just about anything in the world: outdoor nude recreation! Or, more specifically, nude wilderness exploration. And self-portrait photography, because the two go together like peanut butter and jelly. My self-portrait photography is enhanced by the wild locations and scenic vistas I seek out, and my wilderness exploration is indeed spurred on by my mad artistic pursuit of visual documentation of the wonder and sheer joy I feel being naked in the great outdoors. The only thing missing is a buddy who shares my level of passion, and has the stamina to keep up with me, climbing mountains and yet still having the energy to dash back and forth to wherever I set up my camera tripod.
Among other things packed into my busy, three day excursion, on this trip I conducted a staggering three hour photoshoot for a clone shot that involved multiple costume changes (oh, how I prefer the simplicity of nude modeling). The theme is a concept I came up with years ago, depicting a scene from the Garden of Eden. It's designed to send a message, emphasizing the contradiction between a spiritual view of nudity (and/or sexuality) and the false notion of modesty or purity that is passed off as "virtue" in organized religion. It's a concept that obviously hits home for me, and a message that I want to spread far and wide, so the level of expectation I had for this photoshoot was high. The location I picked couldn't be more perfect - it's a very old tree "hidden" (though not hard to find, if you know what to look for) in a protected wilderness area that's revered by locals in the know as a magic tree, often referred to as 'the tree of life'.
That said, the lighting was a nightmare to work with (hence the three hours I spent shooting). The weather constantly altered between sunny and cloudy, sometimes switching as quickly as during the ten seconds it took me to hit the shutter button on my camera and then run into place and strike a pose. At one point, as I was waiting (between costumes) for a cloud bank to pass, a group of tree hunters showed up (I lunged for my sarong) to get their pictures in front of the tree. They were friendly, and we engaged in some light conversation, as I patiently waited for them to move on so I could get back to figuring out how to wear a string of ivy as clothing. I have concerns about whether I pulled the whole thing off (in spite of the monumental effort I put into it - and considerable frustration I got out of it), but I won't know until I've had some time to work on the images in post-production.
But that wasn't even the highlight of my trip! On the previous day, I hiked up the back side of a mountain, to spend hours trawling the epic ridgeline along the top, exhausting myself with picture opportunities every few steps, as the breathtaking views (and eminently climbable rock formations) kept coming and coming, without letting up. And do you know what the best part was? I didn't encounter a single person, so I was able to spend the entire day completely nude, in one of the most picturesque locations I've ever been! In my heart I didn't want it to ever end, but my body was getting more and more tired with each shoot, the sun dropping as the hours passed (I eventually made it back to my car - at the bottom of the mountain - after a deep twilight had set in), with a nagging thought tugging at the back of my mind, that my memory card could only hold so many pictures and videos, and I still had that mammoth costume shoot to do the next day.
But that's not all! At the end of my trip, I still had a couple of hours left to kill, and I wasn't ready to put my clothes on and return to civilization just yet. I had already made the effort to reach this remote wilderness area, and I wanted to make the most of it. So I tried a new trail I'd never hiked before. No cars at the trailhead - and it dragging into late afternoon by that point - said to me that I would have the wilderness all to myself! So I hiked an hour round trip (double that, give or take, factoring in the inevitable picture stops), out into the wilderness and back, fully naked. The scenery was beautiful, and the terrain most pleasant - I didn't even have to wear shoes! The heat of the sun was perfectly balanced by an unrelenting wind roaring over the plains. I felt so alive!
I remember thinking in the moment how delightful it was, not only to be able to experience the natural beauty of this wild planet, beyond the boundaries of civilization and its artificial constructions, but to enjoy it completely unobstructed by the numbing barrier of textiles. When I vocalize it, even in my head - "to walk naked in nature" - it sounds a silly thing to take so seriously. (Or, for those who are threatened by the human body, a serious thing to take so lightly). But words don't do justice to what I felt out there (even pictures can't capture it completely), and how much more vividly I felt it because I wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. I wish I knew how to adequately communicate that feeling to people who haven't tried it, or don't have the disposition for it. They don't have to like it as much as I do - or even at all. I just want them to understand how much it means to me, and be willing to make reasonable - I said reasonable! - concessions, so that I may enjoy those feelings more in life.
[When asked by the aforementioned group of tree hunters what I was waiting around for, a part of me wanted to speak honestly and openly. But out of habit, itself borne out of the fear of social disapproval, I instinctively told a half-truth - that I was waiting for the light to change. Maybe next time I'll have the confidence to be more direct - to explain, in a friendly manner, that I was waiting for them to leave so I could take more pictures half-dressed (or less). (You'd think by the fact that I was uncommonly dressed in nary but a sarong, with my long hair flowing like some enchanted forest creature, they might have already suspected more than they, or I, let on). There's no law against saying such things, and communication contributes to awareness. You never know, you might even be met with delighted curiosity instead of the disgusted revulsion you'd expect.]
And what I'm left with now - besides the fond memories that will no doubt last a lifetime, and hopefully inspire similar adventures in the future - is a sagging camera roll that demands attention. I'm eager to pore through those pictures and videos and uncover all the pure moments of beauty I've captured, and even more excited to eventually share them with others who will be able to appreciate them for what they are. But tempering that excitement is the realization that I have a large and growing backlog of similar pictures and videos that I have as yet not had enough time to pore through. And these new ones, as good as they are, are not so much better as to eclipse those in importance. I feel like a dragon, sitting atop a horde of treasure. It's not that I want to keep the treasure to myself - I long to spread it around. I just can't solve the logistical problem of being drawn to collecting shiny things much faster than I can package them for distribution. So it gives me no pleasure to have to say it like this (and I do apologize sincerely, for I understand that time is guaranteed to no one, myself included), but I look forward to the joy I'll be able to extend several years in the future when I'm finally ready to share the wonderful art I've created over these past few days.
Among other things packed into my busy, three day excursion, on this trip I conducted a staggering three hour photoshoot for a clone shot that involved multiple costume changes (oh, how I prefer the simplicity of nude modeling). The theme is a concept I came up with years ago, depicting a scene from the Garden of Eden. It's designed to send a message, emphasizing the contradiction between a spiritual view of nudity (and/or sexuality) and the false notion of modesty or purity that is passed off as "virtue" in organized religion. It's a concept that obviously hits home for me, and a message that I want to spread far and wide, so the level of expectation I had for this photoshoot was high. The location I picked couldn't be more perfect - it's a very old tree "hidden" (though not hard to find, if you know what to look for) in a protected wilderness area that's revered by locals in the know as a magic tree, often referred to as 'the tree of life'.
That said, the lighting was a nightmare to work with (hence the three hours I spent shooting). The weather constantly altered between sunny and cloudy, sometimes switching as quickly as during the ten seconds it took me to hit the shutter button on my camera and then run into place and strike a pose. At one point, as I was waiting (between costumes) for a cloud bank to pass, a group of tree hunters showed up (I lunged for my sarong) to get their pictures in front of the tree. They were friendly, and we engaged in some light conversation, as I patiently waited for them to move on so I could get back to figuring out how to wear a string of ivy as clothing. I have concerns about whether I pulled the whole thing off (in spite of the monumental effort I put into it - and considerable frustration I got out of it), but I won't know until I've had some time to work on the images in post-production.
But that wasn't even the highlight of my trip! On the previous day, I hiked up the back side of a mountain, to spend hours trawling the epic ridgeline along the top, exhausting myself with picture opportunities every few steps, as the breathtaking views (and eminently climbable rock formations) kept coming and coming, without letting up. And do you know what the best part was? I didn't encounter a single person, so I was able to spend the entire day completely nude, in one of the most picturesque locations I've ever been! In my heart I didn't want it to ever end, but my body was getting more and more tired with each shoot, the sun dropping as the hours passed (I eventually made it back to my car - at the bottom of the mountain - after a deep twilight had set in), with a nagging thought tugging at the back of my mind, that my memory card could only hold so many pictures and videos, and I still had that mammoth costume shoot to do the next day.
But that's not all! At the end of my trip, I still had a couple of hours left to kill, and I wasn't ready to put my clothes on and return to civilization just yet. I had already made the effort to reach this remote wilderness area, and I wanted to make the most of it. So I tried a new trail I'd never hiked before. No cars at the trailhead - and it dragging into late afternoon by that point - said to me that I would have the wilderness all to myself! So I hiked an hour round trip (double that, give or take, factoring in the inevitable picture stops), out into the wilderness and back, fully naked. The scenery was beautiful, and the terrain most pleasant - I didn't even have to wear shoes! The heat of the sun was perfectly balanced by an unrelenting wind roaring over the plains. I felt so alive!
I remember thinking in the moment how delightful it was, not only to be able to experience the natural beauty of this wild planet, beyond the boundaries of civilization and its artificial constructions, but to enjoy it completely unobstructed by the numbing barrier of textiles. When I vocalize it, even in my head - "to walk naked in nature" - it sounds a silly thing to take so seriously. (Or, for those who are threatened by the human body, a serious thing to take so lightly). But words don't do justice to what I felt out there (even pictures can't capture it completely), and how much more vividly I felt it because I wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. I wish I knew how to adequately communicate that feeling to people who haven't tried it, or don't have the disposition for it. They don't have to like it as much as I do - or even at all. I just want them to understand how much it means to me, and be willing to make reasonable - I said reasonable! - concessions, so that I may enjoy those feelings more in life.
[When asked by the aforementioned group of tree hunters what I was waiting around for, a part of me wanted to speak honestly and openly. But out of habit, itself borne out of the fear of social disapproval, I instinctively told a half-truth - that I was waiting for the light to change. Maybe next time I'll have the confidence to be more direct - to explain, in a friendly manner, that I was waiting for them to leave so I could take more pictures half-dressed (or less). (You'd think by the fact that I was uncommonly dressed in nary but a sarong, with my long hair flowing like some enchanted forest creature, they might have already suspected more than they, or I, let on). There's no law against saying such things, and communication contributes to awareness. You never know, you might even be met with delighted curiosity instead of the disgusted revulsion you'd expect.]
And what I'm left with now - besides the fond memories that will no doubt last a lifetime, and hopefully inspire similar adventures in the future - is a sagging camera roll that demands attention. I'm eager to pore through those pictures and videos and uncover all the pure moments of beauty I've captured, and even more excited to eventually share them with others who will be able to appreciate them for what they are. But tempering that excitement is the realization that I have a large and growing backlog of similar pictures and videos that I have as yet not had enough time to pore through. And these new ones, as good as they are, are not so much better as to eclipse those in importance. I feel like a dragon, sitting atop a horde of treasure. It's not that I want to keep the treasure to myself - I long to spread it around. I just can't solve the logistical problem of being drawn to collecting shiny things much faster than I can package them for distribution. So it gives me no pleasure to have to say it like this (and I do apologize sincerely, for I understand that time is guaranteed to no one, myself included), but I look forward to the joy I'll be able to extend several years in the future when I'm finally ready to share the wonderful art I've created over these past few days.
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